"Oh, that's the Indian of it. The tiled roofs are Spanish; the
speech is Spanish; but just beneath roof and speech, the life and
thought are profoundly and unfathomably Indian."
"Not with all the Caracunans, surely. Take Mr. Raimonda, for
instance."
"Ah, that's different. Twenty families of the city, perhaps, are
pure-bloods. There are no finer, cleaner fellows anywhere than the
well-bred Caracunans. They are men of the world, European
educated, good sportsmen, straight, honorable gentlemen.
Unfortunately not they, but a gang of mongrel grafters control the
politics of the country."
"For a hermit of science, you seem to know a good deal of what
goes on. By the way, Mr. Raimonda called on me--on us last
evening."
"So he mentioned. Rather serious, that, you know."
"Far from it. He was very amusing."
"Doubtless," commented the other dryly. "But it isn't fair to play
the game with one who doesn't know the rules. Besides, what will
Mr. Preston Fairfax--"
"For a professedly shy person, you certainly take a rather
intimate tone."
"Oh, I'm shy only under the baleful influence of the feminine eye.
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